Not a Game
by badriddance
Summary: Various ficlets. I changed the status to InProgress because I ended up writing more than one. So far, they've all been written for the 31Days fanfic livejournal.
1. 1: Not A Game

**Written for the 31days fanfic livejournal. The theme was 'leave the lies illconcealed and the wounds never healed and the games not worth winning'. Cooper's thoughts while he keeps watch.**

It was probably a nice little cottage in the daylight. It was a weird thought for a soldier, peering out the window and tense for any sign of movement. A back corner of Cooper's mind was still able to notice the damp, green scent of the herb and flower garden along the outside walls, even over the sharp smell of the superglue holding Sergeant Wells' guts together.

The Sergeant was still blissfully unconscious, sprawled on the bed behind Cooper. Cooper's eyes were on the window and his ears were perked backwards for any sound from the sergeant. If the Sergeant lived, there would be infections to fight. He might not be able to soldier anymore. He might never heal. Even if he lived.

Downstairs, he could hear Terry and Spoon bicker good-naturedly for a moment. Megan's softer voice rose and fell again too. She sounded more amused than annoyed, which was a good thing. She wasn't a shrieker, a small mercy.

A quick blur of movement in the glen outside made him tense. He didn't dare waste a shot until he was sure. One good thing about the full moon was that there was a lots of light. The bad thing was what the light shone on. It rose out of the underbrush and looked at the cottage, it was outlined in silver, the long hair highlighted by the moon. It tilted its head to look directly at Cooper. His finger tightened on the trigger, but then it was gone, in another rustle. He forced himself to relax again.

Another murmur of conversation came from downstairs. There was a low snarl from Ryan. Cooper felt his jaw clench at the sound of the man's voice. If there was any justice, Ryan would've been left in the woods with the men he had let die. The Sarge must've heard it too, because his breathing caught. After a moment, it steadied again.

Even on death's door, the Sergeant was attuned to his men, and his enemies. They shouldn't have to lose him to treachery. Or Bruce. Or Joe. Even if the rest of them lived would they be good for anything ever again? Would they ever be able to sleep in the dark, or look at the moon the same way again? Nothing was worth that. Not a war game. And not a new beast for Ryan to study and torment.

The things outside were monsters. So was Ryan. Given the choice between the two, Cooper preferred the monster that didn't lie.


	2. 2: The Last Page

**Written for 31 Days. Day and theme was ****April 6: Leisurely encounter beside a stream. It was meant to be the last page in Meg's field journal. Y'know, before she found what she was looking for. **

Even if I don't find anything, the trip was worth it for the view alone. It is _**SO**_ beautiful here. The family in the glen have given me some advice on where to look and I set up a little camp were I can watch the copse they told me about. They wouldn't tell me if they had seen anything, but I think they have. I also got the feeling they were laughing behind my back.

The strange thing was that it didn't feel like they were amused that I believed that there were strange things in their woods. It was more like they thought it was funny that I _**didn't**_ know more about it. I think they _**have**_ seen something.

I also think the son was looking me over. He showed up the other day to 'check on me' at my first camp by the stream. Just appeared out of nowhere. The family has been on this land for generations. They probably know every inch of it. He wanted to be sure I was ok, he said. And he seemed more interested in me as the only girl for miles around (besides his mother and sister) than as the crazy, nosy outsider chick.

Maybe I can go back tomorrow and talk to him again. Maybe if I ask nicely and flutter my eyelashes he'll try to impress me with some stories of the beasties in the woods. Mother always said a girl as pretty as I was shouldn't waste it in the wilderness. If the wilderness has taught me anything, it's not to waste anything. I can make good use of prettiness too. And I always bring my v-neck sweater for emergencies.

The moon is rising, so I need to turn the flashlight off and switch to tape recorder. Wish me luck!


	3. 3: Bulletsilver

**Another 31 Days ficlet. This one is for May 3 and the theme was 'e la chiamano estate!' (and they call it summer)****. Maybe what Meg was thinking in that scene where she's looking out the windows in that glazed kind of way.**

She couldn't believe it was this cold already. The night had barely fallen, and the chill had set in. The dew and damp wasn't a frost yet, so technically it was still summer, but still she and the soldiers were goose-bumped and breathing clouds of vapor.

If she hadn't been as used to this countryside, she would've been amazed. The family in the cottage had laughed at her too at first. She was used to it now, but still aware of the extremes. Now instead of making her uncomfortable, the cold, wet air was refreshing on her skin. She had shed her coat and sweater to feel it better, and was almost tempted to pull off the sleeveless undershirt.

There was no telling how that would affect her at this point though. And the poor soldiers had enough on their minds without her throwing them off with her feminine powers. That thought brought a reluctant, if somewhat predatory, twitch of a smile.

The moon lit the haze up as silver as if it was frost, but she could still smell the green and flowers behind it.

"Moon-silver instead of winter-silver," she said aloud, looking out the window at the shadows moving silently in the woods. Her voice was faint and dreamy. She hadn't meant to speak out loud and was hardly aware she had until a growl made her jump.

"I'd rather have some bullet-silver," the nearest soldier said. She turned to see him studying her carefully. What was he thinking? Did he suspect or was it her thin undershirt that had his attention? Either way, she was unnerved and looked back out the window again. It took a few moments before she was sure she had herself under control again.

Outside, the shadows had grown still again. She saw their eyes light up from the darkness, silver also, two tiny moons in each face under the true moon. One way or the other, this would be over by morning.


End file.
